


Always

by MostlyAnon



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Death, Dreams, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Mass Effect 3, Not A Fix-It, POV Male Character, POV Third Person Limited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-13
Updated: 2012-06-13
Packaged: 2017-11-07 16:26:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MostlyAnon/pseuds/MostlyAnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watching her die never gets easier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

Shepard died.

Garrus had hoped to grow accustomed to it, but repetition did not make it easier. She was a soldier, he knew that, and both of them thought a dangerous no-win situation was a decent date. He had more important things to worry about than their chances of surviving whatever miracle the galaxy was begging her to pull off this time. More important things-- like watching her six.

But she died, repeatedly, and death never came easily.

He had never been particularly imaginative, but knew her deaths in vivid detail. She died slowly of asphyxiation, unable to scream for help. Countless bullets ripped her apart, broke bone, shattered skull, were washed away in floods of blood. She bled out in his arms, shot by Cerberus, Alliance, geth, Collectors, krogan, batarians; the list was as long as the line of their enemies. The thresher maw claimed her for its own, Collectors used her for their Reaper. Varren ate her flesh. Once, she drowned. 

He watched her die every night; every day, she was born anew. It was as if she were trying to outdo the nightmares, trying to find new and inventive ways to die. She defied the odds; she survived and slept in his restive arms.

Now, Anderson was talking to her of duty and honor. Earth lay in smoking ruins, she had united the galaxy to save what was left, and he was going to explain to her what desperate measures were.

Garrus stared at the massive column of blue flame, knowing it to be her pyre. Royalties from the vids, children with her eyes, the warmth of the sun on her skin; he knew these dreams were foolishness. There was no peace for them other than a grave.

He would not just dream her death, this time. 

“Garrus?” she said, tapping her Avenger against the armor of his thigh. Her eyes held the same unholy light that made him love her despite the promise of another sleepless night. “You ready?”

He heard her last breath rattle in her chest and checked his rifle.

“Always,” he said.


End file.
